


No Free Lunch

by a_q



Category: Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters (2013), Wolverine (Movies)
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Breakfast, Forests, Gen, Hunters & Hunting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 19:09:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2663087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_q/pseuds/a_q
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The trick with alternate realities is, that you have to decide early on how you want to spend your time. Logan has experience on this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Free Lunch

**Author's Note:**

> From the Into A Bar prompt: Logan goes into a bar and meets... Sheriff Berringer!

Around the sunrise a hare moved through the tall grass, near the spot where Logan had lay down to sleep. He woke to the rustling sound, and he reached out with a quick snap. The movement was half sleep-muddled instinct, half hunger, so it didn't occur to him that he needed a fire to eat it, before the rabbit hung limp and dead in his grasp. 

”Damn,” he said and sat up, trying to remember where he was. He had slept in a spot where the woods gave away to a clearing, with lots of soft grass to sleep in, but not much dry wood to make a fire big enough to roast a hare. He looked at it. It would be a shame to leave it behind, since he had caught it and he was hungry. 

He could've just as well eat the hare without cooking it first, but he knew from experience that the taste of warm blood was a slippery slope for him, and Logan wanted to keep his wits about him. He didn't exactly know where he was, other than this wasn't the reality he knew. That he had figured out when he had passed through the first town. It had been an eye opener.

The realization that he was in some different reality didn't bother him the least. He had gotten tossed around in time and realities before, so he knew that all he had to do, was to wait until the realities straightened themselves out. These things tended to snap back in their original shape like rubber bands. 

The real problem was how to spend the time while waiting that to happen. So far he hadn't bumped into anything interesting, if you didn't count the hare.

He had eaten two days ago so he was fine for another day, but he had passed a town late last evening. It shouldn't be too difficult to find a tavern and exchange the hare for a warm breakfast. Logan got up and brushed the loose grass off of him, before turning around to head back the direction he had come. 

The towns were easy to spot, because he could smell them from miles away. He had planned to walk around this one and stop in the next one, but the weather had been cloudy and without the moonlight it was pointless to walk on, even with his eyesight. So far he had walked steadily to south, for no other reason but to get out of these woods. Usually he felt right at home in the wilderness, but this forest made him restless. Something was wrong here, though Logan couldn't say what it was. So far nothing had come to pick a fight with him.

He walked in a good pace, his stomach growling. The sun barely touched the treetops when he reached the edge of the town. 

It was an architectural equivalent of a group of people huddling around a campfire. The houses were build right next to each other, small alleys weaving between them and finally coming together in the market square. Logan noticed people stopping to stare at him, but he paid no mind to that. Small towns like these, everyone knew everyone else, and all new faces were possible threats. 

Or maybe it was the jeans.

It wasn't hard to find the tavern. It was in the middle of the town, the largest building facing the market square. A sign depicting a pig, or maybe a dog, hung over the doorway and the stone stairs lead down to the cellar. Logan headed to the stairs, coming to a large room, filled with tables and chairs. The light was dim, most of it coming from a big fire blazing in the fireplace even at this hour of the morning. There wasn't that many customers, only a group of men sitting in a biggest round table. Maybe breakfast wasn't a big seller in these parts.

A middle-aged woman wearing an apron piled firewood next to the fire place, and she turned to look at him, log in hand. She eyed him from head to toe, her expression baffled. “Good morning?”

“Morning. I was wondering if I could exchange this for a warm meal?” he asked, raising the hare up to show it to the woman. 

“It's a scrawny thing, but I suppose that's fine,” she said, throwing the log in the fire and brushing her hands on her apron and taking the hare from him. “Take a seat, I'll bring you a plate.” 

He chose a table next to the wall, near the staircase and the fireplace. He leaned his back against the stone, crossing his arms and closing his eyes for a moment, enjoying the crackling of the fire, the smell of smoke and fresh bread. A good breakfast and he could walk all day, and if the weather stayed clear, all night too. Hopefully he could reach a bigger town soon, and find someone who might know how he could get back home. 

“Here you go, chicken stew.” 

Logan opened his eyes. The lady with the apron had placed a big bowl of stew in front of him, with a generous piece of warm bread with a toasted crust next to it. There was even butter and cheese with the bread. It was more that he had thought one measly hare would get him, so he couldn't complain. 

“Thank you, ma'am,” Logan said, nodding politely.

“Ma'am! Oh that would be the day,” she laughed and patted his arm, before heading back to work. 

Logan ate with good appetite, the stew was thick and hot, with lots of vegetables and chunks of chicken. There was only wooden spoon for utensil, but the bread worked better. He focused eating, but it didn't go past him the the men in the other table were glancing at his direction, talking in low voice. He wasn't surprised when two of the men got up and headed toward him. Logan kept eating. It would take more than five guys to stop him from finishing his breakfast.

The men sat down across him, making a show of it with pulling up the chairs, thumping down their mugs of ale and straightening their leather coats. Logan picked a drumstick and sucked the flesh off the bone without taking his eyes off the last piece of bread. 

“You aren't from around here. Where are you headed, traveler?” the older of the two asked. The way his companion kept checking his expression, it was clear he was the leader of the group. Logan glanced toward the kitchen, and noticed the lady standing at the door, looking worried as she stared at their table. 

“Passing through, just eating breakfast and then moving on,” Logan said calmly, dropping the bone next to the bowl.

“I saw the hare you caught. Are you a huntsman? As a sheriff, I have to tell you that poaching is illegal around these woods,” the man continued, smirking like that was somehow a great joke.

“The hare died of old-age.”

Logan knew this type of guys. The sheriff had few guys nodding along with his every word, and that made him think he was the smartest man around. The self-importance oozed out of him like a bad smell.

”Since you're not around here, you might not now that Augsburg is a nice town,” the sheriff said slowly, like Logan was too dumb to understand him otherwise. ”With decent, hard-working people, who simply want to carry on with their lives the same way they have always done, in accord of the laws and customs of the crown.”

”Right,” Logan said, and continued eating. The way this conversation was shaping, he might get thrown out this town any second now, and he wanted to finish his breakfast before that. It wasn't worth the trouble to beat up these folk, and it would be tougher to travel with a mob chasing after him for flashing out his claws. 

”Of course, not everyone think that. Some like to stir up trouble, spread dangerous ideas that shouldn't be repeated by any law-abiding folk,” the sheriff continued with the same preaching tone. 

“Right,” Logan repeated, scooping the last bits of the stew with the piece of bread. It had been a good meal, if you ignored the table company. 

The sheriff exchanged a look with his second in command, who smirked in reply. Logan had seen that too. Roping in a stranger to do some dangerous or impossible task was a standard move for a guy like the sheriff. If he failed, no harm done, he could claim that the stranger was bumbling idiot anyway. If he succeeded, that would be a perfect moment to swoop in and take all the credit. Either way, sheriff's ass was covered. 

Logan stood up, getting ready to leave. The sheriff stood up as well, blocking his way. Logan bit down his annoyance. It wouldn't do any good to punch him, though it would be fun.

“Would you be interested with a quick job to finance your travel? Considering that if you hunt here, I'm forced to throw you in the cell for quite some time.”

“I'm listening,” Logan said, more out of curiosity than anything else. He wasn't going to do anything for this clown, but he would feel no remorse cleaning him out of his money. Some local currency could help along the way. 

“There's this woman living in the woods, she needs to be convinced that it would be better if she left this area,” the sheriff said. “I'll pay you five pieces of silver up front, and ten pieces more if she's gone by tomorrow.”

“What do you mean, gone?”

“Gather her things, carry them outside, that sort of thing. Get her well on her way to leave this town.” Sheriff smirked. “I leave it to you to come up with the best tactic. She's pretty, if that helps.”

Logan held back his instinct to punch this asshole. He didn't want to mess up this nice tavern, especially after such a good breakfast. “Let's see the money.”

“Here,” the sheriff said, tossing five shiny coins on the table. “Johann here will come by before nightfall to see that she's dealt with, and bring you the rest.”

“Fine,” Logan said and grabbed the coins from the table. He didn't think for a second that Johann here would show up for any other reason than for giving him a beating and taking this money back. Or more like, he would try that.

“Hope you enjoyed your visit in Augsburg!” the sheriff called cheerfully after him as Logan headed to the stairs, walking back to the outside, and the bright sunlight. 

Logan walked out of the town, the coins jingling in his pocket. It would've been easy to return to the earlier trail, and keep going south. The sheriff's man would come after him, sure, but that wasn't a problem. Logan would convince him in no time to turn back and leave him alone. 

It was that woman that worried him. The sheriff would surely find some other way to get this woman driven out of here. It would be the decent thing to go warn her. Logan stopped and sighed, rubbing his neck as he tried to decide what to do. He had waited to find something to pass the time, and this was something. But he didn't want to get mixed up with some bullshit local politics. He sighed again and turned to head to the east. After a while he found the trail and continued along the trail leading deeper in to the forest.

The sun had shifted past the midday point when he finally came to the end of the trail, to a clearing where a small cottage stood. It was small but well-build, with a neat garden in the front and few fruit trees planted next to it. Apple or cherry, it was hard to tell. A young woman stood at the edge of the garden, rock in her hand as she tried to bang a fence pole into the ground. She didn't seem to notice him, and Logan considered what was the best way to approach her. He knew how he looked and how people usually reacted, so he didn't want to scare her.

“Good day,” he called, stopping at a distance he thought would be far enough not to appear hostile. “Are you Mina?”

The young woman straightened up and shield her eyes against the glare of the sun. “May I help you?”

She was a lean woman with a strawberry blonde hair, and a yellow dress. In the sunlight it looked like there was a halo around her.

“Yes, I think you can,” Logan said. “I was at the town there, and this sheriff offered me money to come trash your place.”

She glanced at her garden, a flash of sadness passing her eyes before she straightened her back, tilting her chin proudly. She clutched the rock in her hand, but she didn't make a move to use it as a weapon. 

“I'm not going to,” Logan added hurriedly, realizing that he had forgotten to mention that important detail. “I wanted to warn you that those guys are out to get you.”

“I see,” she said, not sounding surprised. Her posture relaxed a touch. “I figured that might happen.”

“Look, I don't want to tell you what to do, but that sheriff has a bug up his ass about this," Logan said, walking slowly closer, hands raised to show that he was unarmed. "He's going to come up with something else to drive you out of here." 

"This is my home," she said. "I'm not leaving."

"I thought you might say that. Here.” He took the coins from his pocket and held out his hand until she offered hers. He set the coins on her palm, her hand warm and silky under his fingers. “Take a long vacation, or better yet, buy a crossbow. Nothing persuades a man to reconsider his life choices like an arrow to the stomach.”

“Thank you for the advice,” she said, and then handed the money back to him with a small smile. “I try to help people, and I don't believe in violence.”

“Yeah, I've heard that before too. I know someone who thinks the same way,” Logan said, sighing. Damn idealists, it was impossible to talk sense to them. He had taken enough rounds with Charles to know that. 

“It sounds like you miss this person,” she said. “Why are you here then, and not with them?”

“I got lost, in a way,” Logan said, not knowing how to explain parallel universes to her, when he had only hazy understanding of them himself. "I'm headed home," he added, more wishful thinking than anything else at this point.

She nodded. "Thank you for taking the time to come here then. You don't need to worry, I'll be fine. Sheriff is only one man, there's other people in Augsburg, people I've helped. His grudge won't carry enough weight to undo all that.”

“If you say so,” Logan said. Personally he wouldn't trust the town people to rise to her defense, but she knew best. He wasn't around here, after all. “Why is the sheriff out to get you?”

“He tried to blackmail the mayor's daughter to marry him, and I put a stop to it,” she said with a tight little smile, turning back to the fence pole and banged it with the rock. “Helped the mayor keep his post too, at the same time. Berringer didn't like that."

"I can imagine," Logan said. He watched her work for a moment. It would be a shame to see that Johann guy kick down the fence she had worked hard to build. He didn't know if helping her was why he was here, but it seemed like a good place to start. "Can I help you with that?"

"I don't have money to pay you," she said, brushing her hair behind her ear. 

"That's alright," Logan said, taking off his leather jacket and hanging it on the one standing pole. "I work for food. Lunch is all I need."


End file.
